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catkyunie · 9 months

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Drink You Deeply ♡

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: The tension has been building for weeks between Changkyun and the boss of their little syndicate. Stolen glances, timed brushes in passing. Finally, the tension snaps.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: mafia!changkyun x mafiaboss!reader

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, smut, and more smut

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(ꜱ): alluded criminal activity, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, pet names (angel/baby), thigh slaps, face fucking, pussy drunk changkyun (please let me know if I miss any!) MDNI 🛑

ᴡᴄ: 4.8k

The room was exactly how Changkyun had left it. Numerous items worth varying degrees of wealth littered the large mahogany table, anything from precious gems to pieces of deconstructed tech. Beneath that? An intricate and precise map of Seoul, down to alleyways and backstreets that average cartographers didn’t even bother with. Nevertheless, in I.M. 's line of work, he made it his business to know every twist, turn, and secret corner their capital might have hidden. Whatever caused the maneuverability of his brothers to be as effortless and smooth as possible. However, standing languidly before the whiteboard at the head of the table was the most priceless treasure in the room—the boss.

Her back was turned to him, eyes surely focused on the makeshift plans scribbled concisely over the face of the board, different colored notes representing the input and dictations of the members. The curtain of hair that Changkyun had imagined spilling over his body time and time again was tied loosely at the crown of her head, the planes of her slender neck peeking through with the subtle movements of her body as she studied. The thoughts of sinking his teeth into the pretty flesh, leaving his mark, and claiming, made I.M.’s throat bob as he swallowed past the thick taste of desire that bubbled up from his chest. She wore what looked like a pressed, white button down, rolled to the elbows and tucked into the waistband of a dark pencil skirt. Her arms were folded at her chest, her hip popped as she adjusted her weight from one foot to the other. Godammit.

Changkyun mimicked her demeanor, leaning casually against the far wall. Arms folded at his chest, accentuating his bare biceps, one foot lazily crossed over the other. He allowed his eyes to do one more quick sweep of her body above the table, thoughts of having her bent over its top darkening his gaze. Inhaling deeply and angling his chin, I.M. cleared his throat, pulling the young woman from her train of thought before asking simply, “We aren’t quite finished going over the logistics. Didn’t Shownu tell you as much?”

The boss turned on her heel to face Changkyun, her painted lips pulled up into a grin. He could have sworn he felt all of the air leave his lungs. Time and time again, I.M. found himself floored by her beauty, by the utter presence she demanded when she entered and occupied a room. Though she stood a full head shorter against the backdrop of him and his brothers, her gaze's calm, deep onyx commanded and brought rival syndicates to their knees. It was her voice and cunning that threatened violence and pain on those that fucked around in their territory. While every member had their role within the small group, they knew that she was the driving force that had propelled them to their standing in the rankings within the inner workings of the Seoul syndicates. And god damn, did it turn him on.

“Of course he did. But, when has that ever stopped me from peeking at plans?” Her voice was like silk, passing through his ears and massaging every bit of his brain that he never knew needed tickling. He replied with a quick, single-shouldered shrug, “It hasn’t. Just didn’t want you to think we were slacking off.”

Changkyun observed as her full lips slacked into a mock sulk as she bent forward at the waist and rested her palms on the deep red of the table. The exact shade of red that colored her lips and that he wished with every bone in his body to leave printed on her ass.

“Ever the perfectionist, Changkyunie.” she pouted.

He physically had to stop himself from whining at her teasing. From matching her sulk with a very real one of his own and explaining to her, as he had repeatedly, that if he wasn’t, everything could and would likely go to shit. While everyone held the same level of serious precision regarding their selected roles, I.M. felt that he was the orchestrated music that each of their instruments relied on to execute symphonies properly. He was their appraiser and getaway. The one that not only found the jobs and weighed their payout but that also ensured their safe passage to and from the heist. If he failed, they all did. Regardless, he refused to play into her razzing. So, instead, he settled with a furrow of the brow, his shoulders tightening as the muscle in his jaw twitched slightly.

Unfortunately, that was all she needed. Straightening from her position, arms crossing loosely beneath her breasts again, the boss clicked around the table. Stopping right in front of him and pressing a thumb to the crease in his brow, I.M had no choice but to relax beneath her touch as she spoke plainly, “You’ll wrinkle if you don’t learn to relax a bit, I.M. Didn’t Kihyun tell you as much?” Using his turn of phrase against him, she tilted her head in question, how her eyes softened despite the playful embers that glinted behind those black orbs. If her proximity to him hadn’t set his blood on fire, the care and sincerity behind her words certainly had. Without thinking, spurred forward on intuition and instinct alone, Changkyun’s hand went to her wrist, holding it tenderly as the thumb pressed to his brow now glided down the length of his nose and settled gently against his bottom lip. She tugged at it, making it fuller still, his grip on her wrist tightening slightly.

I.M. lifted his shoulders from the wall, straightening to his full height. He had half expected her to step away, to allow space between their bodies for breath to pass but, to his surprise, she stood firm. She did not budge as the swell of her breasts pressed lightly to the planes of his chest, her thumb now leaving his lip and resting lightly on his chin as she took it between her fingers and examined his face closely. There was no hiding or denying the lust that darkened his gaze, his eyes watching as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Biting lightly and then licking at the swelling it induced.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” The words were palpable in his throat, thick and honeyed, sticking to the inside of his mouth. The back and forth with the boss had been going on for months. Subtle brushes of flesh, stolen glances, innuendos that both considered missed but were very much received and understood. This was the first time Changkyun allowed himself to act on his impulses. To take the thoughts that swam in his head and give them life, a voice. Judging by how she fixated on the curves of his mouth, her eyes hooded and mirroring the lust that stirred within his own, I.M. couldn’t help but wonder how long her inclinations had whispered to her.

“My favorite kind,” she said in response, her eyes finally meeting his. Inviting. Tempting. Challenging. Who would bend to their whims first? Break and fold under the gaze of the other? I.M.’s grip tightened further, his very bones feeling like they might snap under her continued contemplation. It was with his next inhale, a shudder that heated his blood and left his body quivering, that he knew. He was putty in her hands, to be molded, shaped, and used however she saw fit to please her cardinal needs. And she, being the perceptive leader she was, could see it, feel it, hear it in the way his very breathing seemed to bend to her. This was checkmate.

Just as quickly as the fire had begun licking at the base of his spine and tangling itself in his veins, he willingly and gratefully accepted defeat, it was plunged into freezing water and smothered. The step she took away from him, the hand that followed her and fell to her hip, stole the heat from his body and left a cold chill. The inches between them might as well have stretched for miles. Changkyun had to physically stop himself from moving in time with her, to plant his feet solidly to the ground instead of following her into that space, into that distance. Was this a coming to senses, a realization on her side that mixing business with pleasure would only lead to unneeded complications? Or, perhaps, this was another level to their unspoken game. Regardless, I.M. needed that heat like a drunk needed their booze. She was the finest whiskey brand, and he had every intention of succumbing to his basest desires and drink her deeply.

Changkyun’s hands met at his lower back, the palm that had previously held her wrist now wrapping around his own. Slowly, painfully so, he bent forward. Testing the space between them, watching to see how she responded. To no one’s surprise, she did not balk. Her face, her posture, gave nothing away. She stood firmly, one hand propped on a hip while the other hung loosely at her side. It wasn’t until I.M. had bowed to meet her at eye level, his mouth so close to her own, that their breaths mixed in a way that left his head spinning. At that moment was when he noticed the way her body responded. The sharp inhale, her bosom blossoming to steal his breath away and take it into herself. He grinned, despite himself, and on a whispered exhale, said against her lips, “Your move, boss.”

There, a silent switch was flipped in that too-quiet space between heartbeats. One that catapulted them into a direction that there would be no coming back from. Thumbs curled into belt loops as Changkyun felt a tug at his waist, positions of power shifting as the boss yanked him and spun him on his heel. With a flourish, I.M. found himself pushed up against the table's edge, his hips pressed tightly into the frame by the boss's insistent hands. The consistent ebb and flow of energy between the pair left Changkyun’s head spinning with a drunken stupor that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to recover from. Now he knew how delicious the conflict would be, based solely on the fragrant aroma of their shared lust occupying the same space. To think he was already this befuddled, and he hadn’t even tasted her yet–

His thoughts were quickly smothered down by the overwhelming sensation of her digits whispering against his flesh. I.M.’s eyes followed her every movement as she lowered to her knees, the friction of her slender fingers tugging at the tank tucked into the leather of his pants. It was enough to pull a whimper from the depths of Changkyun’s belly. The sound only spurred her further, bunching the clothing up near his middle before trailing those manicured nails over the raised muscles of his abdomen. He was utterly enthralled with the look of her, eyes blown out with desire, cheeks and ear tips kissed with the softest shade of pink. All while kneeling before him, admiring his body, on the verge of devouring him whole. Akin to a position of worship.

Before Changkyun could collect his thoughts and clear the fog of desire that had clouded his vision, he felt her fingers tugging at his hips, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them from the cut of muscle at his pelvis. Slowly, languidly, those same fingers inched around his body to the seam of clothing that clung to his lower back, pushing past the fabric and down over the curve of his ass. And then, with one final tug, I.M popped free from the too-tight clothing. Now fully exposed, the head of his cock already swollen and weeping at the promise of what her hungry eyes entailed, he had to bite back a hiss as she leaned forward and drug her tongue over the slit, collecting the moisture there and savoring his taste.

Gone was the air of light-natured teasing. Now, there was a sense of urgency in how she pushed forward on her knees, how her tongue hung past her full lips as she slipped him into her mouth. The boss left him no room to breathe as she hilted him between her lips, nose brushing his public bone as he twitched at the back of her throat.

“Fuck–” he quipped, pushing up and into her throat, letting her feel his length, his girth, relaxing around him and adjusting her movements to accommodate him. As she worked her mouth over the shaft of his dick, taking his length and sheathing it between her lips, the boss’s eyes slowly and unconsciously slid closed. She was so engrossed in the feel of him filling her mouth, how his hips bucked to meet her throat, and the subtle taste of precum that coated her tongue and cheeks that she hadn’t even realized that her eyes had left his. She was chasing the high that came with knowing how Changkyun reacted to her touch and the feeling of her mouth milking him for everything he had to offer. However, unbeknownst to her, this was only half of the fun for I.M. He wanted her to witness how he came apart for her, to watch the subtle changes in him. He bit into the hem of his tank to keep his abdomen and hips exposed for her, one hand teasing at his puckered nipple as the other gently wrapped in her hair and tugged with encouragement. Her eyes on his body and experiencing firsthand how much of a whimpering, desperate mess he became, naturally submitting beneath her powerful gaze, did just as much for the man as being buried between those pretty lips.

“Please…” he begged through the cloth and gritted teeth, the fingers that had previously been tangled in her silk curtain now brushing gently against her jaw, pleading for her to place those beautiful eyes on him. And, just as he’d hoped, she entertained his request and did just that. From beneath those long lashes, her eyes found him. Watching the way they darkened upon seeing him in such a state, how he, quite literally, felt her cheeks tighten and suck at him harder, vacuuming him into the back of her throat, damn near sent Changkyun over the edge.

Feeling the way she adjusted beneath him, I.M’s eyes snapped down to the floor, her legs naturally spreading so she could place her center of gravity in her hips and thighs. When their eyes met again, he felt her hands trailing up the back of his thighs, nails dragging along the hardened muscle. The sensation pulled a groan from deep in his belly, eyes rolling to the back of his head as goosebumps littered his skin. Goddamn, this was better than he could’ve ever dreamed. He could feel the tight fist of climax grip his lower spine, but he had no plans to slow its impending arrival. She just felt too fucking good. That was when he felt it. Hands gripping at his firm ass, nails digging into the tender flesh and pulling him deeper into the depths of her throat.

“Oh, what the fuck…” he gasped, the hand in her hair tightening. Eyes locked on eyes once again, and as he held himself there at the back of her neck, waiting to see what she had planned, he felt her swallow against his dick with a slight nod of the chin.

“Can I fuck your face, angel? Is that what you want?” he breathed.

His answer came in the form of her pulling off of him slightly, centering herself, and once again pressing the tips of her fingers into his backside, urging him. That was all he needed. Readjusting his hand in her hair, his fingers grazing the nape of her neck and holding tightly, he nodded.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

Caution was thrown to the wind as Changkyun began to pump himself into her wet mouth, hips rolling forward and back steadily. With each thrust, the coil in his spine tightened further. Coupled with her nails in his skin and the look of absolute fucked out bliss on her face, I.M knew it wouldn’t be long before he emptied himself down her throat. She took each stroke like a professional as the force of his hips began to quicken. He was lost in his sea of need, the desperate and quickening pace he took evidence enough as he chased that high and the surge of dopamine that would come with it. He could feel his knees quake as lewd pants were pushed out of his throat. His eyes were clouded with an unspoken question that the boss answered with a slight tilt of her head, one of her hands snaking back to the front of his body as she palmed and kneaded his balls. That was what broke the dam.

I.M. had to brace himself against the edge of the table as his body arched and found release, fingers white knuckling against the wood surface and in the length of hair he had been gripping in euphoria. He felt the knot in his lower back tighten as he emptied into her mouth, her cheeks filling with his cum before she greedily swallowed it and savored every drop he gifted her. Quivering and breathless, he felt his body finally relax against the table as she pulled him from her mouth. The grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth had him hardening almost instantly. She was smug. And he wanted nothing more than to wipe that shit-eating grin off her face.

Bending at the waist with little warning, Changkyun’s lips found her in a hungry embrace, the hands at her waist quickly tugging her from the floor as they switched places. He didn’t have time to play this little back-and-forth they had established. Not now, not after he had found his climax and regained his head. Tasting himself on her tongue only elevated his need. He needed her, craved her. He was ravenous, and the slick heat between her thighs was the only thing to satiate his appetite. Gingerly placing her back against the mahogany table, a hand at the back of her neck to support how tightly he pressed his mouth to hers, Changkyun’s other hand was already working at her blouse. Deftly undoing the buttons straining against the rise of her chest, his teeth nipped at the bottom lip he sucked into his mouth as he quickly pulled away the brassier that held her breasts. Finally releasing the vice from her mouth, Changkyun straightened his spine as he peered down at his first in command and her state. He hadn’t even touched her yet, and she was already trembling. Her cheeks flushed, nipples perked, the skirt scarcely covering her lower half, riding up her legs and clinging to the plush flesh of her thighs.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands quivering as he reached for the seam of her skirt, pushing it up and around her waist. I.M’s hands now held her hips tightly as he bent before her covered slit, the boss’s legs unconsciously pulling away to give him the access he needed to admire. There was no hesitation in her movements, nothing showing that she was timid or uncertain. She knew what she wanted, and he always intended to give it to her.

“Kyun…”

Peeling his eyes from the moist cloth that covered her cunt, Changkyun met her gaze as she pushed up on her elbows and considered him. Licking at his lips, he turned his cheek into the hand she now offered him, pulling in a sharp inhale as the same hand quickly slid up and tangled in his dark locks.

“Be a good boy and tend to your mess,” she spoke lowly, eyes sharp and expecting.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Turning his attention back to her core, he pulled a hand away from her hip and quickly hooked a finger around the cloth of her panties, pulling them to the side and being welcomed by the most beautiful specimen he had ever seen. Every one of Changkyun’s senses was locked in. The world could have been burning down around them, and he wouldn’t have cared or bothered to notice. Seeing firsthand how swollen and plump the entrance of her body became from having him in her mouth, the feeling of her arousal coating and slicking his fingers as he traced his knuckles loosely over her entrance. Teasing. Enticing. The smell of her lust amalgamated with his saliva as he flattened his tongue over her slit, his nose pressed against the bundle of nerves at her apex. Hearing the sounds he elicited from her throat with every lick, lap, and stroke of his tongue and fingers set his blood on fire and drove him deeper into the folds of her cunt, as if smothering himself in her desire would bring him closer to God. And Christ Almighty, the taste of this woman. It was as if her flavor had been explicitly formulated to satisfy I.M.’s needs and desires. The richness of her, how she fully coated his tongue and throat and left him desperate for more. It was a brand she was unaware she had left on him, one that had tied their bodies together in ways that would send Changkyun to the ends of the Earth. To pleasure this woman, to kneel at the altar of her body and hear how she sang when met with his worship and devotion. He would give anything. He would give his life, his soul. He would give everything.

“Changkyun…” her voice was little more than a breath as he felt her fingers curl tighter in his hair, nails dragging over his scalp and causing him to groan into her cunt. His response had her back arching like a cat, her hips grinding into his nose and tongue as she gasped for air, desperate for friction and inching closer and closer to the edge of release. As desperately as I.M. wanted to tease and prolong their time together, pulling his face away from her sex left him trembling and fiending. His need to please her, to have her cum on his tongue and flood his mouth with her essence, smothering him between her thighs and completely encapsulating him in her own need, won out over his want to have her beg and plead for liberation. The line of desperation blurred between them, becoming a hazy daydream as they each crawled closer to their shared, common goal. Release.

The build-up was beginning to send tremors through the boss's body, her spine now permanently affixed in a seductive curve, her legs curling into her body as her thighs began to tremble. Changkyun knew she was close. He could feel how her hands tousled his hair, her hips rocked back and forth on his tongue, and her voice elevated from breathless pants to lewd sounds of pleasure and bliss that echoed in his mind. His hunger for her orgasm chased closely on its heels, driving him to bury his face deeper still as he lifted his shoulders and readjusted his angle. Both hands reached forward and tightly grasped her thighs, burying his fingers into the soft flesh and pushing her knees to her chest. Temptation pulled at his yearnings, and, answering the call that stirred deep in his belly, Changkyun pulled his face away from her cunt long enough to experience this new perspective. Lips that were slick and flushed a bright pink, that same gloss painting his mouth, nose, and chin, shimmering off her pale thighs. He pressed her legs together, causing the folds of her pussy to follow suit, and the view made him groan. Supple and juicy, the most delicious fruit he had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Lifting a hand and bringing it down with force against her thigh, Changkyun reveled in the bright pink stain that colored her skin. Bringing his hand back down against the abrasion, I.M. squeezed at the plush flesh, leaving indentations with his fingers. Gripping both thighs once more, he opened his mouth above the boss’s glistening cunt, allowing a dribble of spit to fall from his full lips and cover her entrance before diving head-first back into her folds and finishing his feast.

He pressed his tongue past her labia, the length of it finding and lapping hungrily at the bundle of nerves that made her thighs quiver beneath his palms. Bringing one of his hands down to chest level, Changkyun prepped one at her entrance, teasing at the opening before slipping past her wet folds. He felt her body jerking beneath him, her hips pushing down for the friction, her breath hitching as she choked out a beg.

“More…Kyunie, please.”

Slipping another finger into her, Changkyun drug his fingers upwards in a curl, feeling the pillow patch of flesh that sent her reeling. Massaging the tips of his fingers over it, his tongue steadily teasing and lapping over her clit, I.M continued the motion until he could feel her body tense and her breathing catch. Pressing his face into her, he propelled her over the edge, a cry passing through her lips that damn well almost made his twitching cock spill over the floor. It was hands down the sexiest thing he had ever heard, her pants of pleasure being a close second as the muscles of her cunt tightened around him, riding out her orgasm.

As the boss’s fingers loosed in his hair and he felt her coming down from the climax, Changkyun slowly removed his fingers from her core, planting one final kiss on her cunt before erecting his spine. Taking a step back, I.M admired her form as he sucked his fingers clean. Her body was still being rocked with aftershocks, her perfectly placed hair now sticking to her forehead as her head lolled lazily to the side. He bent forward, slowly wiping her bangs aside and kissing her forehead. As he went to stand, readjusting her clothing, he felt a hand at his wrist. She had rolled her head back, eyes finding his, pleading, as her legs began to spread again—a silent request.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” he teased, a lazy smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stepped forward, stroking his firm cock as her legs easily rested against his hips. Just as he lined himself up with her pussy, he heard voices from up the hall.

“You knew I was going for that last bit of gimbap,” Hyungwon sulked, close at Minhyuk’s shoulder as his hyung shrugged and continued down the hall.

“You didn’t vocalize it, how was I supposed to know?”

“Min, stop teasing Hyungwon,” Shownu spoke over his shoulder, a grin playing at his full lips.

“You’re only saying that because if Minhyuk hadn’t gotten to it, you would’ve,” piped up Jooheon, throwing an arm over Shownu’s shoulder lazily as they rounded the corner into the conference room.

The four of them found Changkyun and the boss at either side of the room, one inspecting the board closely and scribbling notes as the other was seated at the table, thumbing through notes. An unmistakable tension hung in the air, one that was palpable enough to slice through. Kihyun, not far behind and clinging to plastic bags, elbowed his way through the group before shooting the men an incredulous look and setting the load on the table in front of the boss.

“Could you not crowd the doorway, please? Especially since you all left me to carry the takeout and drinks. Alone.” he stated pointedly.

“Thank you, Ki.” the boss said quickly, standing from her seat and going to trifle through the bag and remove the styrofoam containers. Peeking over her shoulder, she motioned to the dinner spread before stating simply, “Dinner’s here, Changkyun.”

As the men shuffled into the room and took their places at the table, I.M joined them and reached for the drink labeled with his name, nodding in thanks.

“Not hungry, Chankhyunah?” Jooheon asked simply, sipping from his drink and shooting a glance in the boss’s direction.

“Nah, I’ve had my fill for now,” he answered lowly, scribbling notes over a piece of looseleaf that sat to his right. With that being said, and one last glance shared amongst his brothers, an easy conversation began to filter through the room, consisting mainly of Hyungwon’s sulks and tandem teasing from Jooheon and Minhyuk. Beneath the table, he felt a hand on his knee, a firm squeeze from the boss. Grinning to himself, he took another sip of his tea and shook his head off the thoughts that began to cloud them again. The squeeze was a confirmation that she had heard his veiled promise. One that he planned to see through again, again, and again.

#monsta x smut #im changkyun x reader #I.M x reader #changkyun x reader #im changkyun smut #I.M smut #changkyun smut #monsta x x reader #Okay? Deal Series #catkyunie fic #paige writes

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notmoreflippingelves · 8 months

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I need to ramble more about Esteban Flores, because everything about this character and his arc seem as though it was tailor-made for me and specifically designed to make me absolutely feral.

This going below the cut, both because I do not want to spoil the entire show for my friend who is think of watching Elena of Avalor and because I go full-on apologist here and I feel like that will annoy some people.

Imagine making the absolute worst mistake than anyone could possibly make, because you are 18 and scared and stupid and tired of being ignored. And it results in you losing your family and your freedom and what little self-respect you had left because you know all of this is very much your own fault.

And so you proceed to spend the next 41(!) years eking out a miserable existence in an oppressive state. Upon fear for your life, you are forced to be the reluctant right-hand of the evil witch-queen who conquered your country, killed your aunt and uncle and trapped your cousin in magical prison. In spite of this, you nevertheless do everything within your limited power trying to hold the kingdom together and make sure the people don't starve, because the queen certainly doesn't care about anything except greedily bleeding your country dry.

And no exaggeration, this is just what canon explicitly gives us outright in the pilot. Like that's not even getting into head canons/interpretations/common sense of what exactly this sort of life entailed for you. Because this is a children's show so there's only so much they will let us imply about living under that kind of system. Especially as a young, attractive, terrified person who is the last living member of the previous royal family who is likely being kept alive partly as a combination trophy/punching bag for the evil queen (even if the show never actually states this outright).

And then by some miracle, what's left of your family comes back after all this time. The evil queen is overthrown, partly because you yourself finally stood up to her at a critical moment. You and your country are finally free again, and what's more, you and your family are finally together again after over 4 decades. But you still feel like an outsider--partly because you always were an outsider in your family even in the better times and partly because over the past 41(!) years, time stood still for all of them except you.

And as a result, no one ever cares to ask what those 41 years were like for you or even just if you’re doing okay. Not only because your family can’t even begin to comprehend what it must have been like, but also because they don’t care to even *try* to understand. Because the narrative has decided that everyone else’s respective traumas is worth way more than your own. (Though tbf the narrative really doesn’t dwell much on anyone’s trauma in general but yours gets especially neglected , except to briefly play it for laughs or to remind you that your trauma is *your own fault and only your own*).

For a little while, life is pretty okay. It’s weird not having to watch your step every instant to make sure you’re not putting a toe out of line. And so you never really fully break out of your “survival mode” conditioning, making sure that you are still considered important and valuable enough to keep around.

But all the while, you know that your past—and especially your terrible little secret—is eventually going to come back to haunt you. And it does. First via blackmail and then via the return of the evil witch-queen herself. Fortunately, she is defeated for good before she can take avenge your “betrayal of her” but you still have to deal with seeing the ghost from the past who terrorized you for 41(!) years.

And then, your secret finally comes out in the open and you are disowned by your family—the family you *just* got back a few years ago—for an admittedly super bad decision that you made over four decades ago and have regretted ever since. Rather than face the rest of your life in isolation (as though you didn’t already have enough of that during the previous regime), you escape before you can be sent into exile. This puts you directly in the path of *another* terrifying, evil magical milf who you are forced to ally yourself with. Because you have 40+ years of conditioning that when a woman like that says “jump,” you say “how high?” if you are to have any hope of survival. Especially given that the only people who could’ve protected you from her are the family and friends who have just definitively washed their hands of you.

Despite this, you are still trying to seek your cousin’s forgiveness and to protect her in the little ways that you can. But you are constantly getting rebuffed over and over again, and if anything, your attempts at reconciliation only seem to make your cousin angrier, and she now hates you just as much as—if not MORE than—the woman who actually murdered her parents.

Your cousin is so angry at you specifically that she actively ignores the greater threat of Witchy Milf 2.0, because she happens to see your face and is enraged. This ends up backfiring spectacularly for you both, though it does indirectly lead to the defeat of said Witchy Milf 2.0.

But guess what? There’s no time to breathe or celebrate, because her defeat occurred during the successful summoning of a third power-mad, feminine-presenting magical humanoid and her allies. At least, this one treats you with some initial respect and actually gives you outright what you-think-you’ve-thought-you-always wanted. But she also turns your family and friends to stone in front of you as a warning of what’s to come if you dare to defy her.

But this time, you are finally done with this, have finally lost enough that you have paradoxically found your courage. You sacrifice yourself to save your cousin, and she is finally able to accept that you’ve sacrificed and changed enough that she can forgive you. And her forgiveness is so powerful and pure that it not only restores you to life but also undoes all the other evil magic. Together, you defeat this final enemy, paradoxically by banishing her to the same Underworld where your mistakes accidentally sent your aunt and uncle and her parents long ago. Peace has been restored. You have returned for good and are finally secure in your family’s love.

And after all that, there are *still* people (both presumably in universe and in the fandom outside of it) who say it's too little, too late and that it would've been better for everyone if you'd simply stayed dead.

Like I'm just... are we really victim-blaming the character who has 45 years of unprocessed trauma and guilt (both survivor's guilt and guilt in general) because of a decision he made when his brain was still developing and he was being manipulated by an older, much more powerful person?

#elena of avalor #elena of avalor meta #esteban flores #chancellor esteban #like how do you do this to me--an english major--#and not expect me to be completely unhinged about it?#like the parallelism. the THEMES.#the fact that having to abide by established sofia the first canon #meant that the writers had to significantly prolong the length of both esteban's and elena's respective traumas #i get that they had to but like 41 years? they still did THAT #and they expect me to be normal about it #don't get me wrong; i am not blaming elena for her response #it was normal and understandable and given her position; i may have acted the same #but at the same time; 41(!) years of trauma that the narrative just assumes esteban did and should've gotten over by now #even though they are not expecting elena to have gotten over the same 41-years of trauma?#and not just little trauma with a little “t”; we're talking TRAUMA™#someone get this man to the Ever Realm equivalent of therapy #like i'm not totally wild about s3 in general (we should've had an final season to deal with the coronation day aftermath)#but like the finale still hit all the right narrative beats that i needed so I'm okay-ish #and it still handled esteban's final arc much better than the similar final cassandra arc from tangled the series #imo at least

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